The "Grindstone Islander", The Story of our First Barge

Editor’s Note: Our readers will be as pleased as I was, when I recently received this email from Cindy Hagemann, Manley Rusho’s daughter:

Here is the last story that Manley wrote. He called me on Monday, January 20, after he emailed it to me to go over it. It was something that we did – he would write the story, email it to me, and then we would go over the story over the phone. He was not feeling well, but it was important to him that I got this story. As he told me the story over the phone, I knew it was going to be another good one! What I didn't know was that it would be his last story and the last time I spoke to him. He ended up in the hospital on January 22 and passed away on January 25.

This barge was the first of its kind in the Thousand Islands (privately owned) and made history when it provided the transportation to lay the cable to provide electricity for Grindstone Island in 1954.

Thanks, Cindy, and I am looking forward to more found articles – for sure!

Grindstone Island, New York 1948-1949

River transportation was desperately needed in the Thousand Islands for hauling cattle, vehicles, and cargo to and from the islands. In August 1948, my father (Leon Rusho, Sr.) found a WWII Landing Craft Mechanized (LCM) military barge to buy and solve this issue. The only problem was with the Coast Guard; they were demanding some documentation papers that were almost impossible to obtain. My father was told to contact a guy named Harry Holt to get the help he needed, and get the signed approvals for the required documents. Harry Holt was a member of the Wright family, who had a summer place on Grindstone Island for many years. Harry was an airplane pilot, a “full-bird Colonel” in the Army and had served in WWII. He was now at the Pentagon and said he would help with the situation.

Next thing I knew, we were off to Washington, DC, with a briefcase full of papers. We stayed with Harry and got to see how the “other half lives.” As a 17-year-old who had not been far from Grindstone, this was quite an adventure! Harry did his magic getting the documents signed by the upper echelon of the Coast Guard. I don’t know why, but I remember that the papers were stamped with the words: TOP SECRET across each one. Afterwards, Harry flew us back in his private airplane, even flying us under the Thousand Islands Bridge, over Grindstone Island, and then landing in Watertown. Mission accomplished!

The Coast Guard seemed surprised that my father managed to obtain approval for the purchase and piloting the barge. Soon, arrangements were being made for the barge purchase and delivery. I recall the barge originated from the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard where it had been decommissioned, and then ended up in Providence, Rhode Island – where it was freight delivered to the Thousand Islands.

My first look at the barge was in the spring of 1949. The barge was sitting on large wooden blocks on the shore at Gerald Reed’s marina in Fishers Landing, New York. The barge with her sleek hull and green bottom was the largest vessel I had ever seen out of the water. She was not pretty in any way but still a magnificent sight.

The old barge was a mess though; the propellers were strapped to the deck; the huge, rusty ramp was inside the hold of the barge; the steel cockpit had been cut off and was now laying on the deck. Rusted pieces and parts scattered all around. My father saw a thing of beauty and never wavered from making this dream come true.

It didn’t take long for the word to spread around the area about the barge, and people would arrive daily to see this vessel in person. Here was a genuine relic from WWII to be seen, touched, and photographed, if you were lucky enough to own a camera.

A solid week’s worth of hard work by my father and others, including my Uncle Benny (Calhoun), made the barge was ready to be launched in the St. Lawrence River. This transformation was nothing less than incredible and included: rebuilding the engines; reinstalling the huge ramp; reinstalling the propellers; reinstalling handrails; welding the cockpit; draining and cleaning the fuel tanks; and replacing the hatch covers. Lots of welding and bolt tightening were involved in the process. I was down in the well deck when the engine roared back to life – causing the entire barge to shake violently and thick black smoke to engulf the engine room.

The next morning, the weather was cold, and a west wind blew over the River. Gerald Reed’s bulldozer came into play to launch the barge. A steady push or two on the barge ramp and the blocks underneath went flying, and from there, the bulldozer continued to push it into the water. There were several men holding heavy line ropes, and this monster fought us as she was pushed into the cold River for the first time. We were pulling hard on the ropes as she tried to break free before finally resting quietly in the River. My father started the engines, turned the wheel, and we were off for Grindstone Island!

It was March, so there were large chunks of ice still floating in the River, but at this point they were not slowing down this beast. We drove past Thousand Island Park, and then we noticed that the ice was solid between Murray and Grenell Islands, so we continued our journey towards Bluff Island.

Days like this on the River were meant for men like my father and my Uncle Benny. They had spent their entire lives on the St. Lawrence River, and they lived for moments like this – navigating the River and piloting an unknown vessel that they had rebuilt themselves. Men of this quality simply do not exist anymore.

As the expedition continued, the thick ice was now becoming a hinderance. My father decided to find a place to dock the barge for the night and found a sheltered dock at Bluff Island Lodge. The dock was not in good condition and was mostly gone, but it was all that we had available. The dock was blocked with thick ice, but my father did not hesitate, he backed up the barge next to the dock and placed her bow on the loose ice. As we were tying up the barge, the ice underneath gave-way causing a shift just as I was throwing a line to my uncle. Over the side I went, ending up in the freezing water. I was quickly fished out and placed below in the warm engine room, where I quickly removed my soaked sweater, pants, and boots and placed them on the manifold to dry. I recall being so cold and yet enjoying the warmth coming from the heat of both engines. I was sitting in my long underwear for several minutes when my father called out to say that it was time for us to leave. I quickly threw on my semi-dry clothes, boots, and reluctantly left the warmth of the belly of the beast.

We started walking to Grindstone Island from Bluff Island, choosing our path carefully across the semi-frozen river. We walked across the beach at Bluff Island to the head of Bluff, where we continued on to Grindstone. Crossing the River between Bluff and Grindstone without any issues, we found solid ground again near Coxes, at the point of our bay at the Lower Town Landing. The rest of our journey was uneventful, arriving safely home just as my mother had supper on the table, and we had a tale to tell.

By Manly L. Rusho

Manley Rusho was born on Grindstone Island nine+ decades ago and left the River permanently in January 2025. He died peacefully with his family at his side. It was back in 2021, Manley started sharing his memories with TI Life. (Manley Rusho articles) This Editor and his many friends Thanked Manley and his daughter Cindy for sharing so many memories... And Guess what.. More to come! Thanks for the Memories.

Note: The Grindstone Islander was the first of several barges that the Rusho family owned and operated for many years. The Grindstone Islander was the barge that laid the cable to provide electricity to Grindstone in 1954.

A message from the family of Manley Rusho:

The family will celebrate the life of Manley Rusho on Saturday, July 26, 2025, at the Clipper Inn in Clayton, New York, from noon – 3 pm. Family and friends are invited to attend and asked to bring a story to share about Manley.